The Years That Flew
by Yellowluna
Summary: Before the war and crisis fell upon them, they had everything. Joy, freedom, and peace of mind. As two lives cross and intermingle, they are chosen by Fate to see it all: Swirling cultures, rebellious attitudes, and rapid change. In the most turbulent years of their lives they lived: The Roaring Twenties. Historic AU. Main USUK and other side pairings.


**The Years that Flew**

Story Summary: Before the crisis and war fell upon them, they had everything. Joy, freedom, and peace of mind. Traveling far from a little community in the mid-west, a young man embarks on a path full of swirling cultures, rebellion and rapid change. Aided by a Briton who accompanies him in learning what the years had to offer the two, they experience the most turbulent years of their lives. They lived: The Roaring Twenties. Historical AU. Main USUK and side GerIta, Spamano, etc.

A/N: Will include slang from the 1920's while translations will be in parentheses. This story will contain numerous references to actual events in United States during the 1920's and so on. I will do my best to research everything I can and obtain accurate facts but if anything seems off or is misstated, please inform me of the mistake so I can correct it. If any readers have questions about certain references or would like more information about specific topics send me a PM. I'll also consider different approaches to where the translations are placed if readers do not like how they are arranged.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - New Year**

December 31, 1919

The low vibration of an engine roaring to life echoed within a small house, slowly rousing a young blond buried deep in his nest of thick blankets that smelled faintly of hay. Eyelids fluttered open, sapphire eyes taking in what little light filtered through his window as the morning sun had yet to rise in the horizon. He groaned for a second, grudgingly lifting his head from the comfort of his pillow before his body followed suit. Treading on ice cold wooden floor barefooted, he held back a gasp of air and trudged on, finding a loose shirt on the floor and some spare pants near the edge of his bed. As he slipped them on, he could hear the model T echoing into the distance; his father gone to pick up milk.

Once dressed, Alfred tiptoed down the hallway towards the stairs, aware that the absence of bacon wafting throughout the house meant his mom was still asleep with his baby brother Matthew. Reaching the back door in the kitchen, he cracked it open and shivered at the crisp wind that buffeted him, greeting him to another cold morning of Ohio's winter. He puffed out a few wisps of air, walking across the yard while he could see a few lights glimmer in the distant town of Glenmore. Upon reaching the small barn behind his house, Alfred gripped the handles and pulled, smiling when he heard the familiar snorts of the pigs inside.

"You guys are still alive?" He joked, grabbing a bagful of feed near the entrance and dumping a few cups into their plates. The swine's viciously surrounding the blond, snorting and huffing in hunger as they gobbled up the food. Alfred quickly backed off from the animals, his arms wrapped firmly around the bag as if it would provide some form of defense against the pigs.

"Hey, hey! Eat the food, not my legs!" He warned. Finally escaping the mass that consisted of 8 well fed swine's the blond deposited the feed where it belonged and exited the old barn, heading towards the petite chicken coup where Rose, the family's lone chicken resided. "God, please let there be more than one egg." He prayed, the coup's door creaking when he entered.

Turns out, luck was not on his side today. Grumpily, the blond went back inside with a single egg in hand, a few feathers tangled in his hair as Rose put up a decent fight protecting her lone egg. With the time that passed feeding the pigs and fighting off the chicken, Alfred could feel his mouth water when he was hit with the strong aroma of food swiftly being cooked in the kitchen.

"Ma? What's for breakfast?" He asked the moment his mother turned around from her cooking. She welcomed him with a warm smile and whipped back to her stove, flipping a few strands of bacon on a frying pan.

"Isn't it obvious honey? Bacon, toast and eggs." The blond woman held an open hand behind her, silently asking for the egg that her son brought. Placing the white object in her hand, Alfred's mother halted in her cooking and turned back to Alfred, a questioning look on her face. "Just one egg?" She raised a curved eyebrow in suspicion. "You didn't drop any again, did you?"

"Not this time ma." Replied Alfred, an annoyed pout on his lips. "Are you ever going to forgive me for that?"

The woman chuckled lightly before cracking the egg into an empty frying pan to the side. "O' well. I guess you won't be having egg today." She chirped, turning the egg skillfully in the pan as it simmered and bubbled. Ignoring Alfred's disappointed pout, the mother started humming a tune from the radio until she stopped abruptly.

"Alfred, make sure you clean up too." She reminded her son, smiling when he groaned in annoyance.

"Ma', I'm 17, not 7."

He pretended not to hear his mother laughing and headed upstairs and into the bathroom, thoroughly cleaning his hands of any dirt or feathers that stuck to him. Clean enough to please his mother, the young man went back downstairs, cautious of passing his parents room where Matthew slept peacefully. Last thing anyone wanted was to wake the baby up.

As he entered the kitchen, he grinned widely when his father came inside from the back door but tilted his head in confusion when the man did not sit at the table like he usually did. Instead, his father placed the glasses of milk on the table and walked towards the living room, ruffling the teenager's hair as he passed by. "Good morning Al." He said, before his back disappeared up the stairs.

"Now, what are you up to this time Walter?" Questioned Alfred's mother.

"Nothing Anna. I'm just lending something to a friend." He replied, albeit it was a bit muffled as it echoed from up the stairs. Quickly making his way back into the kitchen with a bundle of blankets he peeked his head into the kitchen. "Oh, and you can give my eggs to Alfred. I don't think I'll have enough time to eat much today."

Murmuring a quiet remark about men and their work, Anna shook her head, slipping the sole sunny side up egg onto a plate adorned with bacon and toast before handing it to a very eager Alfred. Besides his enthusiastic whispered "Yes" she inclined her head at an angle, listening to her husband talking to someone at the front door. She grabbed a cloth from the counter and wiped her hands clean, preparing to see who was the unexpected visitor but stopped as something else caught her attention.

A knock at the back door. While Alfred gave her a puzzled look, half way through devouring the egg on his fork she returned to the kitchen and pulled the door open.

"Ah, Ivan! What a surprise seeing you so early in the morning." She said cheerfully, swiftly ushering the tall Russian inside the house. "Is something the matter? We don't usually see you or your family until lunch time."

The mentioned man quietly stood in the middle of the kitchen, grinning widely underneath his scarf at the scowl that Alfred shot him. The 22 year old had to refrain from laughing out loud when his mother curtly smacked him on the head, telling him to show manners to their neighbor.

"Please don't fret Mrs. Jones. I only came here on a request from my sister." He answered calmly.

"Oh, what would she like help with?"

The man pulled a stray strand of platinum blond hair to the side and smiled. "She would like to know if you have any recipes that could act as a substitute for our traditional meals." His smile wavered slightly as he shuffled his boots on the wooden floor. "You see, she'd like to celebrate the New Years with something more…American."

Alfred bit the last piece of bacon he had on his plate and watched his neighbor with mild annoyance, wondering if this was another of the man's ploy to irritate him when his mom wasn't looking. God knew the immigrant had messed with him on numerous occasions in the past.

Telling him of rumors that never existed and then giggling at his gullibility after he got in trouble for asking about them. Slipping unwanted ingredients into his meal when no one was looking and then feigning innocence as the blond choked on the excessive addition of salt. Oh, he knew the Russian was out to get him! He always was, whether anyone believed him or not.

"What? Why would she do that? She makes wonderful meals simply by following her family recipe." Anna fumbled around with the cloth in her hand, hastily tossing it on the kitchen table as she searched for some papers she kept in the counter's drawers. "Will it just be you and your sisters again?"

Ivan silently nodded at Anna's glance.

"Well in that case, how about you and your sisters come on over for dinner? Katyusha could cook her pleasant dishes and bring them over." Anna offered as she abandoned her search for her recipes.

Unbeknownst to her, Alfred was horrified by the idea, his mouth gaping open at Ivan who returned the reaction with a sly smirk. That smirk! He was definitely planning something!

"How kind of you Mrs. Jones but I don't know if Katyusha would-."

"Oh please, it's no bother to us. Celebrate the New Years with us! I insist." Continued the blond mother. She was sincere with her gesture that much Ivan could see. And his older sister did want to experience more American culture. What harm could the dinner do?

He was about to reply but was rudely interrupted by Alfred's frantic outburst. "What? No way! Ma', you didn't discuss this with dad and-!" He was effectively silenced with a stern glare from his mother, causing him to shrink into his chair. He grumbled under his breathe, crossing his arms in a huff as he was convinced that their New Years was automatically ruined. His fears were confirmed the moment Ivan innocently said, "Well, if you insist."

So much for starting off on a good year.

Anna clapped her hands together in joy. "Wonderful! Then please tell your sister that we'll start dinner at 7 p.m." From the living room, Walter came into the kitchen, halting in step as he noticed Ivan was visiting and his wife appeared happy. She must have agreed to something without consulting with him first. "Anna?"

"Dad! Ma' invited the Braginski's over for dinner!" Started Alfred immediately, obviously hoping that his father would protest against such agreement. It's not like he had anything against Katyusha, honestly. Out of the Braginski's, she was the nicest and always treated him like he was another sibling. It was the other 2 siblings that she had that Alfred objected ferociously to them coming over for dinner.

"Your family is coming over for dinner?" Repeated Walter. "Perfect. I'd been meaning to invite people over today. My friend…" He nodded his head over at the front door where he had previously been talking to another man. "…couldn't come over today. Said he had to care for a sick foal before departing for the next city over. Anna and I would be happy to have you over. Isn't that right, Alfred?" The man gave his son a look that called for no opposition whatsoever. Alfred slowly nodded in defeat.

His parents had betrayed him either way.

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get going soon. Those railroad maintenance workers won't know what to do without me." He heartily chuckled to himself grabbing his hat off a rack to his side. "By the way Ivan, how is you sister doing? She find a husband yet?"

"Walter!" Scolded Anna quickly. The man held up his hands in defense but did not retake his words. Ivan in turn struggled to hold back a frown, settling for an awkward, "No, she hasn't."

"Ah, I apologize if I was a bit prying." mumbled the tall American. "Don't think too much about this old man's thoughts. I just want to see her well taken care of. But with you around, I doubt she has much trouble." He placed a comforting hand on Ivan's shoulder, amazed by how much the Russian had changed since the first time they met 4 years ago. Accepting the apology with a nod of his head, Ivan watched the man walk away towards the front door.

For a second, the brown haired man paused and turned back around. "You're parents would be very proud of you Ivan." Then left the house. Outside, the bubbling sound of the engine vibrated off the walls until its sound became a meek murmur with its departure. It was silent again.

"Dad is so weird." Muttered Alfred. His mother nodded in agreement, a lopsided smile on her face. Only the sound of another knock at the back door caused everyone to turn around in curiosity. Upon opening the door, a young girl about the age of 13 stood there, her eyes immediately landing on Ivan.

"Brother, Katyusha wants to know what is taking you so long." She stated bluntly. The light haired girl stepped forward into the kitchen without question and quickly clung to Ivan's arm, refusing to budge even after he flinched from the contact.

"Ah, Natalia. W-Was it really necessary for Katyusha to send you over here?" He asked with a nervous stutter. "I was just about to leave."

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry for keeping him here so long. Please, go tell your sister about our plans." Said Anna. Natalia instantly narrowed her eyes up at a nervous Ivan.

"What plans?"

"You guys are coming over to spend New Years with us." Replied Alfred in a bored tone. He felt a shiver run down his spine when the young but equally threatening Russian turned her head towards him, a look of utter contempt as his only thanks.

Why couldn't his parents invite sane people to the house?

* * *

Another average day in town. What a bore. Forget the fact that he was going to spend dinner with Ivan later on…

Walking through the town of Glenmore, Alfred sighed in boredom, his eyes searching the cloudy afternoon skies for any entertainment. His hands rummaged around in his pockets, grappling a few bills that he had earned last week for helping a friend clean their barn. Thinking back to the chore, Alfred gripped the money tightly, mentally groaning about all the back breaking work it had been.

"Thank God dad isn't a farmer." Said the blond to himself. Sure, there was the small barn his family had around the back but honestly, it only contained their pigs. They didn't run an entire farm like the rest of the citizens of Glenmore. Last he heard from his dad though, being a farmer in these days was incredibly difficult, what with the government refusing to pass any bills that would rid farmers of surpluses.

Yup, definitely glad that his dad worked on the railroad instead. Stopping in front of a general store, Alfred strolled inside and went towards the corner, his eyes skimming over a few items on shelf.

A well cared for brown radio that shined. Well, his parents already had a radio in the living room and he was pretty sure that he didn't have nearly enough money to buy another. Plus, he received his own just this Christmas.

Next.

A few records stacked on top of each other. He looked though the albums, a frown growing on his lips with each passing title. They were the usual songs that his parents listened to on their phonograph. Nothing new today apparently. "Dang it. When is this place gonna get some new records from the city?" Mumbled Alfred.

Next.

Bibles? He held back a grunt of detest and pursed his lips together, trying to wrap his mind around the presence of three bibles before him. "Why on earth would anyone buy these?"

"Some folks lose them boy." Alfred jumped at the voice behind him, hesitating to turn around but felt his shoulders relax when it was just the clerk. The gray haired man grinned. "What's wrong Al? Don't like going to church?"

Alfred waved off a hand, rolling his eyes at the question. "My parents already lecture me enough about how I should attend more services." The clerk chuckled at his irritation.

"Ahh, to be young again." He breathed out. "Well, are you going to buy anything or stand around here all day? You're taking up room in here and I can't close the store down if you're inside. I won't open up until next year you know." He said in a teasing tone. The teenager was not impressed. Before he could retort with an equally good come back though the man suddenly dodged around him and ran towards the front door where he stuck his head outside.

"Hey, I saw you Ricky! Get'chur ass back over here and help out your mother!" He ordered, his index finger jutting out at the back of the fleeing boy. He gritted his teeth before grudgingly walking back to Alfred, knowing full well that at his age, he couldn't catch his rambunctious son. "Can you do me a huge favor Al, and go get that good fur nothing kid for me? He's been avoiding house chores all afternoon and my wife's ready to chew me out for his laziness!" He ran a wrinkled hand over his face, stress evident in the way his eyebrows created a deep ridge in between.

"Uh, sure. I got no problem with that." Answered Alfred with a sheepish smile.

"Thanks! And if he puts up a fight, I give you permission to rough him up a bit. I'll tell the wife that the kid fell." Smirked the clerk as he patted him on the back. Alfred shook his head in humor before strolling out the door in search of the troublesome kid.

"And then, he yelled at me and called me good fur nothing! Oh, you should have seen the look on his face!" Declared a boy with messy brown hair, his arms extended towards the sky in dramatization. He stood before a taller boy about the same age as Alfred, his piercing brown eyes swimming with mischief as he listened to the 13 year olds tale.

"Is that so?" He dawdled out slowly. "Maybe next time you should nab an item off the shelf while your at it. Maybe something like-."

"Hey! What're you doing John?" Came Alfred's voice over the dull hum of a train resting on its tracks. Treading over a weird slush of coal and a light blanket of melting morning snow, Alfred stopped in front of the two boys. "Tryin' to get another kid in trouble?"

With a sneer, the red haired teenager puffed out his chest and cast Alfred a dirty look. "What's it to ya Al? This ain't any of your business."

"You're all wet (wrong)." countered Alfred. "Of course it's my business! I came for the kid. And I'm pretty sure his parents don't approve of you influencing him either." He crossed his arms in disapproval, watching the brown haired boy glance nervously between the two teenagers.

"You should go home Ricky. Your dad's pretty upset." reasoned Alfred with a raised eyebrow. With hesitation, the boy lowered his head in shame, knowing that he was right as he slowly started walking in his direction.

"Baloney! (Nonsense) Are you seriously gonna listen to ol' Alfie boy?" mocked John. "The guy's dad works on the railroad! Now what do you think that says about him?" He took a few steps towards the retreating kid, his lips in a devilish curl as he noticed that he hit a nerve with the blond ahead of him.

"What's wrong with that John?" Alfred spat back. He unfolded his arms and kept them to his side, fighting back the urge to ball them up. "If he didn't work on the Erie railroad then they wouldn't work right. And if they don't work right, this town wouldn't exist!"

By now, the kid caught in between Alfred and John scuttled to the rear, his legs refusing to sprint back home as the tension between the two young men grew rapidly.

"Oh yeah?" prodded John. He was practically in Alfred's face as the two glared at each other intensely. "I guess it doesn't even matter than that any average drunk can get that job, hu-?" He never got to finish his sentence as the blond swung a fist at him, smashing it against the side of his head and clearly knocking him away. Startled but not deterred, the red head spun back on his heel and threw a punch at Alfred, growling as he jumped back and dodged it.

He charged after Alfred with his fist raised high, side stepping the kick that was sent his way and swiftly tackling him to the slippery ground. As the two young men fumbled on the ground, yelling obscene words at each other while fists flew and jabs were exchanged, the lone boy watching the fight finally registered what was occurring before him and ran towards his fathers store in a panic, screaming for assistance.

* * *

Around 5 in the afternoon, a merry blond woman held a slumbering baby in her arms, rocking him gently while she hummed a lullaby. Pacing about the living room, she marveled at how quiet Matthew was for a 6 month old, caressing him with every little twitch he made, most likely having sweet dreams. As the back door in the kitchen groaned in protest, the mother carefully put her child into his crib and turned around to greet the assumed safe return of her eldest son. She couldn't cover her mouth fast enough as she shrieked in astonishment.

"Alfred! What-! What happened to you?" She demanded, frantically approaching her son and checking him over. From his bruised arms to the scratches that littered his face, the worried mother lifted his hands and cautiously rubbed the purple bruise on his cheek. She pulled her hand back immediately when Alfred flinched, hissing at the physical contact. The mother did her best to look her son in the eyes without straying over to the blotches of red on his white shirt.

"I got in a fight." He mumbled out, blue eyes glancing nervously to the side.

"A fight? Now why did you go and do that Alfred?" Unable to hold back her shook, Anna pointed a shaking finger at the dry spots on his shirt. "Just look at you! Lord knows what kind of cut I'll have to clean this time!"

"It's not my blood." Replied Alfred softly.

"Al!" Freezing at the sudden murmur that came from the crib to her side, Anna slowly glanced towards the crib and sighed in relief when Matthew remained asleep. She then quickly ushered Alfred into the kitchen and sat him down at the table with a stern look.

"Alfred, who did you fight with this time? And what did you do?" She asked in a hushed voice, although the intensity of her anger had not subsided one bit.

"I got in a fight with John. And I broke his nose."

"John? You mean Mary's kid? But I thought he was your friend?"

"We stopped being friends back in middle school. Besides, he was making fun of dad." Retorted Alfred grumpily. "So I taught him how to keep his mouth shut."

With one hand tucked underneath her arm, Anna held her face for a while. "Alfred…why do you have to fight with all the older kids in town? Can't you get along with them for once?" She pleaded under her hand.

"Ma', it's not me. It's them! They're always insulting me or dad, raring (asking) for a fight. And if it's not that, then they're off picking on the younger kids. What do you expect me to do?"

"I expect you to stay out of trouble!" She retorted but quickly regretted it. Seeing the hurt look in Alfred's eyes, she relaxed her shoulders and ran a slim hand through his disheveled hair. In a lower, more gentle voice she continued. "Dear…please don't make me worry so much about you. It's good that your standing up for others but…think about your own well being too. Do you think I like cleaning you up after every scuffle?" She smiled weakly when Alfred shook his head.

"I know you're old enough to think on your own but please, consider what I feel about this too. And remember that you have to set a good example for Matthew as well. Do you want to see him fighting with the kids, saying that his big brother taught him how to fight?" Again, Alfred shook his head, his gaze wandering over to the crib through the living room entrance.

"Next time someone provokes you, just walk away. Show them that you're the bigger man." She pulled a shriveled dead leaf off his hair and placed it on the table, her teeth nibbling on her lips at the remaining dead leaves that decorated her son's blond hair. "Now you stay here and try to get as many leaves out of your hair while I go get the first aid kit. Those cuts need to be cleaned up or else an infection might kick in." Her back retreated up the stairs, Alfred watching with slight amusement at his mother's fretful nature.

As much as he adored his mother, Alfred could say without a doubt that he was thankful his father was not the same way. In fact, growing up in town as a young boy, it was his dad that taught him how to stand up for himself when the older kids tried messing with him. His mom, however, could not for the life of her, stop panicking any time he came home with a few bruises. It's not that he couldn't get along with the others; it was the fact that he was great at making friends with anyone that kids his age or older would target him. Perhaps because they were jealous?

"Hmmm, whatever." He spoke to himself. A majority of the younger kids held a deep respect for him and as long as he could drive a mean right hook he was capable of caring for himself.

And speaking of the devil…

Walking through the front door and passing the living room, Alfred's father halted near the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes examining the scratches on his son's face. "Who'd you fight with this time?" He asked impassively.

"John."

"What'd you do?"

"I broke his nose."

"That it?"

Slowly, Alfred's eye danced with pride. "I gave him a shiner (black eye) too."

Two seconds passed before his father broke out in a huge grin, walking towards Alfred and ruffling his hair affectionately. "Attaboy! (Well done)" He cheered.

"Walter Jones!" Barked his wife from the bottom of the stairs. Both men in the kitchen jumped in surprise, holding their breaths as Anna marched back into the kitchen with some antiseptics and a small rag in hand. "Don't encourage the boy! Do you want him to grow up roughhousing (fighting) every person he meets on the street?"

"Anna, he was only doing it in self-defense and-."

"Don't 'Anna' me!" She interrupted. "Its behavior like this that makes it harder for Alfred to socialize with others his age! Do you want him to be a social outcast?"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thi-." The man shut his mouth when the woman placed her hands on her hips. Her signature, "Don't you dare argue against me" look. He sighed tiredly before turning to Alfred.

"Your mother's right Alfred. Don't fight with the other kids." He said in a dull voice. He briskly stepped to the side when she approached the table in an upset huff.

Still holding an irritated expression, she applied antiseptics to a cloth and rubbed it on Alfred's scratches. "Ow!"

"Maybe you should've thought about the consequences before charging head first into these scuffles Alfred." She chided, oblivious to the helpless shrug her husband sent Alfred. The blond teenager merely squinted his eyes as his mother wiped his face clean, hissing at every instance she poked the large bruise on his right cheek.

"Honestly…I can only imagine what the neighbors are gonna think about this when they come over." She sighed. Alfred in turned groaned.

Nothing pleasant knowing Ivan…

* * *

Indeed, nothing pleasant came from the Russian at dinner. At least, as far as his silence could be taken. But any moment now…Alfred could just hear it! He shuffled around the kitchen, holding his plate against his chest while his parents talked with the Braginski's in the front room.

"…Pleasure to see…all we…" Their broken conversations were barely noticed by the lone 17 year old waiting in the kitchen, his glance never straying once from the roasted turkey resting on the counter. If he could just sneak a little bite then maybe-

"I do hope you don't pick the thing dry before we even start dinner." Drifted Ivan's heavy voice into the blond's ear. Spinning around with a deep frown, Alfred stepped back into the counter as he realized how close the man stood behind him. He had him cornered.

"Shud'dap Ivan." he retorted. "And do you mind?" Alfred daringly tapped Ivan's coat, looking up at his purple eyes with aggravation. "You're in the way."

"Oh little Alfred, when will you ever be nice to me? I am merely worried for your health." He responded nicely but Alfred was not convinced. He folded his arms around his plate and tried glancing around Ivan's form, hoping for someone to come find them soon. Previous encounters with Ivan did not always involve bothersome interactions. The blond had learned once, never to pick a fight with him. It ended with him spitting out dirt for a week, not to mention his parents had grounded him as well for starting it, as they say.

"My, what a lovely bruise you have there Al. Did somebody have the honor of provoking your self justified wrath?" Asked Ivan as he poked the dark splotch on Alfred's cheek.

"Hey! Don't touch me! And don't call me Al either!" He snapped.

"Hay is for animals Alfred. And I thought he were friends. Am I banned from addressing you as such?" The tall pale man stepped back, giving Alfred the freedom to slip through. Turning back around, Alfred puffed up his chest.

"No, we're not friends. Friends do nice things for each other and -" He would have said more if he didn't hear everyone else coming into the kitchen. Choosing to hold back any further insults, he shifted towards a seat at the table, but was perplexed when his mother held him back. Indicating by where she was pointing at a different chair, it was safe to say that his seat was already chosen for him.

Dinner would now commence.

* * *

Softly wafting through the dinner table was the dull sound of the radio reporting some minor news and recalling previous events of the year. At the table, 6 people sat around, Alfred's parents animatedly talking while their listeners ate. Only Alfred remained quiet with his head bowed, hating every second he was forced to sit next to Ivan. He didn't bother looking up, knowing full well that he'd meet Natalia's icy stare.

"…what a year…" Grumbled Alfred's father from the front of the table. "But hopefully, this New Year will be better. God knows, the people in Congress aren't making it any easier for us." He chided. Placing his fork down, he turned his gaze from Ivan to Katyusha, then to his wife. "How about we celebrate good riddance to this year with a toast?"

"That sounds charming." replied Katyusha with a sincere smile. When she picked up her cup she stopped when the man placed a hand up in pause. She and Ivan watched in interest when he reached under the table.

"Here we go!" he exclaimed, pulling a bottle of wine out of hiding. Everyone around the table widened their eyes, even Alfred who had chanced to see what his dad was doing. "Alcohol? But dad, didn't the government pass a law this year banning that kind of stuff?"

"Where did you get that?" questioned Alfred's mother as she balanced Matthew on her knee, feeding him a small bottle of milk.

"The general store. Mark said to consider it a gift for the year." He grinned, popping the cork off the mouth of the bottle. "And to hell with Congress and their 18th amendment! I'll very well do as I please." With that, he walked around the table, pouring the red liquid into the cups of the adults.

Coming back to his seat, at that moment, the radio buzzed on with another event that had occurred in the year. _…we honor the departure of one of this nations previous Presidents, Theodore Roosevelt. As a…_

With perked ears, Walter raised his cup into the air. "To Theodore! For standing up for this country when no one else would." His lips were pursed when he heard his wife giggle. "What is it Anna?"

She shook her head before patting Matthew's back when he finished his milk. "When will you give Mr. Wilson the respect he deserves? He's our President too."

"The man got us involved in the Great War. What's there to respect him for?" Countered Walter. "He's the reason why I was drafted too."

Placing his head onto the table with his arms wrapped around him, Alfred groaned in boredom. This year didn't offer him too much either when he thought back on it. The agriculture industry had slowed dramatically and not many people were looking for help in town. Just what was he going to do this year? Fresh out of school, yet no jobs except maybe the general store. His father was pretty wary of letting him join the railroad business too.

Holding back another groan, Alfred peeked through his arms and noticed his parents had settled down long enough to proceed with their toast. Now Katyusha seemed to be the main speaker, both his parents giving her their full attention. He nestled his head into his arms but kept an ear open to her conversation. Not much else to do…

"…even though it has been difficult at times to keep the farm going, I have hope that this year will be different." Finished Katyusha in her timid voice. She held her hands neatly folded on her lap, her cup drained of any liquids while her gaze strayed over to her brother who was slowly drinking from his cup. Instantly her eyes lit up.

"Oh! We're also sending Ivan to New York this week."

It was the first time Alfred saw the Russian man choke on something. Admittedly, it was very entertaining. Pounding on his chest for the liquid to stop suffocating his airways, Ivan blinked back tears before looking up at Katyusha in surprise.

The woman stood from her seat, her hand reaching out to him in worry but returned to her chair when he seemed alright. She quietly asked Ivan is he was ok in her native language. He reluctantly nodded, still astonished that his sister would mention such news to their neighbors. His next surprise would come in the form of an unusually interested Alfred.

Glancing over to his right, Ivan could not believe his eyes when Alfred was eagerly clutching his arm, demanding his attention with such enthusiasm. No thought was paid to the girl from across the table who was bending her fork backwards in rage as she watched Alfred grab her brother's arm so casually.

"You're going to New York? To the city? When? Why? What are you going to do there?" Sputtered Alfred in a high pitch. After overcoming the initial snickers that plagued him from watching his neighbor choke, the key words "New York" echoed in his head, bringing all mental functions to a fierce halt as nothing else mattered but the news itself.

"Ah…Alfred. I never realized you'd be so interested in such trivial matters." Replied Ivan. He coughed again into his hand, then tried pulling away from Alfred's hold but was met with resistance. He furrowed his eyebrows at the blond teenager. "I am going to do some tasks on the way before I arrive there. Then I should have enough time to pick up some old friends."

"To New York huh? What a trip that'll be. You know, we have some family over there. They live right in the middle of it all. Are you prepared?" Asked Alfred's father.

"I believe so." With a slight tug of his sleeve, Ivan finally managed to pry Alfred's hold off of his arm.

"He shouldn't be in the city too long. Once he's done with a few errands he'll come back home with Toris and Felicks." Added Katyusha. "He's already arranged for a temporary place to stay at. They have plenty of room and have been kind enough to accept a reasonable price for the stay."

At the end of her words, Alfred struggled to contain his excitement. Perhaps he was crazy or just plain insane but an incredible thought had occurred to him. It was worth a shot.

"Can I go with you?" He blurted out loudly, garnering every ones attention at the table. Silence.

Then…

"No." Replied Alfred's mother.

"But ma' I-."

"No and that's final." She ended. An unsettling tension surrounded the table, Alfred conflicted between retorting back or accepting her choice. Even if the thought had only lasted for less than a minute it had been the most exhilarating idea he could harbor. It had everything he could ever want. Freedom, adventure, opportunities. So why…how could he be shot down so quickly?

He balled up his hands, oblivious to Ivan studying him, and considered leaving the table altogether.

"Don't be like that Anna." Interjected his father. God bless his father!

"No. I don't want him going to the city." She said flatly.

"Anna. Alfred's not a little kid anymore. He'll be a man next year. You can't keep him locked up in the house forever." He retorted.

"I wouldn't mind having Alfred accompany me." Came Ivan's unexpected words. The teenager next to him could not believe his ears. Ivan, his tormentor of 4 years was offering him the chance to leave home and go see the world. He almost wanted to hug the guy. He viciously wiped his sleeves over his face, hoping to absorb any liquids that threatened to turn into tears. He wouldn't cry!

"I'm terribly sorry for troubling you Katyusha, Ivan. I didn't even consult you. Please excuse Alfred's behavior."

"It's not a problem Mrs. Jones. If Ivan is fine with allowing Alfred joining him, then I have no objections. After all, you and your husband have been so generous to us since the first time we moved here." Said Katyusha.

"But…"

"Da, as long as Alfred does not wander off with any strangers, I would enjoy his company." Added Ivan with a small giggle. To his right, Alfred held no insult. This man was advocating for his chance to visit the city. He would not ruin this.

"You see Anna? The Braginski's have no issue with taking Alfred along. It'll be good for him to see what's out there besides the fences of Glenmore."

"No. He's not ready. The city is too dangerous." She mumbled, cradling Matthew closely to her chest.

"Ma'…please let me go. I can handle the city. And I'll be on my best behavior, I promise!" Begged Alfred. "Everyone else has gone to the city. Why can't I?"

Alfred's mother remained quiet.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow morning." Said Ivan, directing a side glance to Alfred.

It was his father that took the reigns from there. "Alright. If you're going to take Alfred with you Ivan, I'll provide him with some money for any added expenses and the address to my brothers place in case you should decide that Alfred is too much of a bother."

"Dad…Can I really?" Whispered Alfred. A slow nod was sent his way.

"Yes!" He jumped from his seat, his hands raised into the air in pure joy. "Thank you so much!"

"You should be saying that to Ivan instead." corrected Walter.

Pausing for a second, Alfred quickly swallowed his pride and glanced at Ivan.

"Uh…Thanks." He mumbled.

This was most definitely worth anything if it meant he could go to the city. Finally, he would see all the things that the radio chatted about everyday. The riveting baseball games that were described with gusto. The audacious characters that were said to walk the streets of New York and other cities. The melodies that streamed forth from spellbinding musicians. Oh, the sheer excitement of-

"I didn't quite hear you Alfred. Can you repeat yourself?" Said Ivan through all the thoughts that swam through Alfred's mind. Coming out of his momentary stupor, Alfred held back the urge to frown and repeated himself, albeit with a strain in his voice.

"I said, thank you."

"Good. I do hope you will be on your best behavior Alfred." Chuckled Ivan. "We'll be gone for 1 week after all, including the days it will take to reach New York."

Towards his father, Alfred shared a grateful smile with him but felt his joy waver when he saw his mother downcast. This whole time she had not said a word. Rising from his seat, he reluctantly left her side, passing by his father. He flinched when he felt his father's hand on his back.

"I'll talk to her later…" Whispered the man. Nodding with hidden concern, Alfred sped passed the table and abruptly excused himself, climbing up the stairs by 2 steps and running to his room. Tomorrow he would leave home for the first time. There was so much to pack and so much to think about. Would he even sleep tonight? Maybe he'd drink a large glass of warm milk in order to incur sleep if the trill refused to let him rest.

"Wow. I'm going to the city…" He breathed out in amazement. For the rest of the night he did not hear a word of discussion that transpired downstairs, too busy caught up in his own dreams to notice that the New Years had arrived.

* * *

Standing near a rail of an extravagant ship, overlooking the scenery of never ending ocean, a man with messing blond hair gazed at the horizon, wondering what would await him at his intended destination. A few wisps of air left his lips, fading into the cold night as he recalled memories of his last days in his home country.

_~Flashback~_

Checking over a few items that lay sprawled on his bed, the blond haired man held a finger to his lips in thought, allowing the quaint tune of a Beethoven classical flirt around him. Green eyes narrowed as he caught the faint smell of a cigar lit somewhere in the room, but considered for a second that perhaps the infuriating user would leave the house soon and smoke it outside.

Back to his items, his hand hovered between two books, debating which would be a better choice to take on the trip across the Atlantic Ocean.

_A User's Guide to Navigating through the United States _or _Night and Day_?

The man chewed his lip before reaching down. "Rubbish! I'm more than capable of finding my way throughout the bloody United States." He muttered, grabbing a firm hold on _Night and Day._ Like he would waste his time reading some nitwits advise about how to treat Americans and their customs. How different could they be from Britons? You know, besides the unruly society they lived in and the grotesque manners they held.

Just as the radio was spinning out the finale of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, it crackled loudly and sputtered in chaos causing the Briton in his room to bristle in aggravation. The radio buzzed one last time then halted on a different broadcast, its rambunctious music ruining the calm that the man had once cherished in the room. It was also at that same time that he wrinkled his nose in disgust, aware of the overpowering pungent smell of cigar smoke choking the life out of his room.

…**Tho I love you so, It is time to go, And the soldier in me you'll find…**

The song rang clear in the house, further angering the blond man who placed his book into his suitcase and marched out of his room, ready to chew out the perpetrator for touching his radio.

**When on land or sea, Many boys like me…**

"Allistor!" Screeched the Briton, glaring daggers at the red haired man who idly stood near the devise, waggling a finger in beat with the song. "Turn the radio back to my bloody music!"

Lifting an eyelid open, the man held a mischievous smirk.

**You would not have me stay behind?**

"But Arthur, it's singin' about you." He grinned as the next lines flowed out.

**So, send me away with a smile little girl…**

The chuckling man swiftly stepped away the moment Arthur swung a fist at him. It was simply too easy getting his younger brother all riled up. Holding a cigar behind his back, Allistor leaned forward and flicked a finger at Arthur's forehead.

"Its mothers house wee brother. I can do whatever I want with her radio."

…**And I'm off with the rest, With the boys from my hometown…**

Choosing to end the broadcast lest any more unwanted lyrics rang out, Arthur slammed his hand on the dial, leaving the room empty of music. "It's my radio you arse. I bought it for her to use, not for you to tinker with!"

The red haired man laughed, pulling his cigar from hiding as he took a long puff from it.

"You wanker! Mother warned you not to smoke in her house! Now it's going to smell!" Barked Arthur. Jolting forward, he managed to swipe the cigar out of his hands, walking swiftly to the kitchen where he threw it in the sink. Coming back to where his annoying brother stood, he held a large scowl. "How are you going to explain to her this wretched smell?"

"Not a problem. I'll just tell her that you were the one smoking." Reasoned Allistor with an impassive shrug of his shoulders. His brother stuttered in disbelief. The nerve this man had! Their mother clearly knew that he didn't smoke!

His remark would have to wait; the taller man pointing his thumb back at the vacant room, "Don't you have to finish packing?"

"I would if you weren't here causing a distraction every damn second!"

"Oy, don't be so cross Arthur. I merely came to help and say goodbye to my dear brother."

"Tch, like you've ever been a good brother to me." Grumbled Arthur under his breathe. "I don't need your help git! I would have been happier if Dylan had come instead. At least he doesn't find a chance to jab at me like you and Liam do."

"But that's how we show our love Arthur. I thought you knew that already." Allistor tried to pat Arthur on the head but was met with air as the Briton had ducked away from him. "Fine, be that way."

Trudging back to his room with an annoyed expression, Arthur was about to close the door but stopped. "Open some windows up too or else mother will be furious." Then he slammed the door shut.

He was given a few minutes of peace, able to add a few more items to his luggage. Now where had he placed his notebook? Scanning the room for the misplaced item, his left eye twitched for a split second when the sound of a door creaking open reached his ears.

"Allistor…" He growled out through gritted teeth.

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch wee brother. I came to tell you that Liam wants to talk to you."

"Liam? No thanks. Tell him to piss off." Said Arthur. Leaving with some hesitation, Allistor left the door ajar and returned to the house phone.

"He says he doesn't want to talk to you." Spoke Allistor in a voice loud enough for Arthur to hear through the door. "…Yeah….I know. Little brothers for you. …What?"

Quiet. Then, "Alright!"

Refraining himself from pulling his hair out, Arthur chewed on his lip, painfully aware that his brother was ambling back to his room. As he whipped around, ready to give him an earful he was caught off guard when Allistor grabbed him by arms and brought him into a sudden embrace. He was speechless, frozen in shock.

Just as quickly as it was initiated, the red head pulled away and smiled widely. "Liam said to give you a hug for him." He said in a heavy Scottish accent. "Although he wants to know about that large spot on the back of your coat."

"Wha-?" snapping out of his astonishment, Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. "What spot?" He wandered over to a mirror with his back to it and twitched in horror as a large splotch of cigar remains decorated his lovely grey coat.

"You prat!" He roared, violently trying to wipe off the residue.

An hour later after trying to beat some sense into Allistor and vowing to get revenge on Liam, Arthur was finally done with his task of packing, albeit it took him 40 minutes longer than it should have. His coat sadly kept a faded presence. No one would really notice it but Arthur would. As long as he knew it existed, he knew it was there.

"Bloody git." He growled, grabbing his luggage and exiting his room for the last time. Walking through the sitting room, he paused near the radio and ran a thumb over it. No more British stations once he crossed the Atlantic Ocean. He loathed to imagine what the Americans listened to all day.

Huffing in defeat, he continued on his way out, lingering near the front door as he gave the house one last glance. The door softly shut closed, leaving a lonely atmosphere behind.

"Come on, come on. Your ship leaves soon Arthur. You want me to take a photo for you while I'm at it?" Teased Allistor outside as their automobile waited for them. "I don't think Bella will be happy if you're late. Imagine, all that money she wasted buying a ticket for you. Oh, what a shame indeed."

"Do you ever shut up?" asked Arthur blankly.

"Ahh, she is too sweet of a girl to be friends with you, honestly. But maybe that's how all people from Belgium are." Sauntering over to the vehicle, Allistor jumped inside and started it up, watching with mild interest as Arthur sat in the passenger seat.

"What are you waiting for? Hurry up and start driving! Are you planning on making me late too?" Green eyes narrowed dangerously, the Briton holding his luggage close near his leg as his body went rigid. "Well?'

Shaking his head in jest, Allistor directed the mobile into the streets, mulling over his words quietly before speaking. "Well, how do you feel? Being a social misfit has finally benefited you in some way. Bella not only invited you to visit the United States with her, but also paid for your ticket. Feeling lucky?"

Arthur studied his brother's face before scoffing at him. "I'm not like you and Liam. I actually value her friendship and have the utmost respect for her. Besides, she thought I'd like to explore any opportunities that are offered over there for someone such as myself. Although I doubt I'd prefer to live over there."

He frowned when his brother laughed at him.

"Why are you laughing? I accepted the offer because it would be rude of me to deny it. Do you find that funny?" Allistor shook his head, a few small chuckles faintly escaping him.

"It's nothing Arthur. Just don't forget about your brothers over here. It's unfortunate that Dylan and Liam couldn't see you off but at least I came." He cheered.

"I didn't invite you in the first place."

"Oh Arthur. You'll miss us eventually. If you decide to choose a wife over there, make sure she's soft spoken. I hear Americans are very loud and obnoxious. And some friends have told me that the men can be rough so be careful. Don't want to get a call saying they-."

"I'm 21 you ninny. I'm capable of surviving over there." Added Arthur briskly.

"Did you tell mother how long you're going to be over there?"

"Not really. I assured her though that I would call her anytime I got the chance. Even though Bella invited me, she doesn't plan on babysitting me. We're going to split up pretty quickly. She says she wants me to "experience" America first-hand." He rolled his eyes but kept a small smile nonetheless.

"It's fortunate that you choose a career as an accountant. Just make sure not to spend it all on ale and whiskey."

"I'm not a drunk like Liam." Retorted Arthur grumpily. His gaze followed the passing scenery of London's streets, watching people go about their business, mobiles zooming back and forth everywhere. It seemed like everyone was finally recovering from the effects of the Great War, although certain songs from the war still seemed to hang around. Closing his eyes, Arthur sighed.

"What's wrong Arthur? Having second thoughts about leaving? I'll happily take your ticket if you don't want to go to America with Bella." Offered Allistor with a smirk.

Their vehicle slowed to a sluggish pace until it stopped completely. They had arrived at a port, a large steam ship waiting near the docks.

"Shut up!" Snapped Arthur as he got out of the model T, bringing his luggage with him. His brother followed after him, keeping a few paces behind as they neared the ship. From above, Arthur and Allistor jolted at a high pitch voice, a girl with short blond hair waving her hand wildly for Arthur's attention.

"I see Bella already beat you here." Whispered Allistor playfully. His younger brother gave him a curt elbow to the chest, shutting him up from saying any further comments. The Briton then withdrew a neatly folded paper from his coat pocket and handed it towards a man who seemed to be greeting the passengers. Once he was approved, Arthur nodded a thanks and was about to board the ship but was held back.

"What is it this time?" He warned in a low growl when he turned to face back Allistor.

"Give those Yankees hell." Was his sole reply.

Standing face to face, watching each other while passengers eagerly made their way onto the ship, Arthur struggled to hold back a smile. With the sun getting ready to set and the New Year just a few days away, Arthur extended a hand forward but was perplexed as his brother shook his head and pushed it away.

"Don't. That'll make this a true goodbye. Just because I live in Scotland, Liam in Ireland, and Dylan in Wales, doesn't mean you'll leave us for the United States. You'll be back. You always come back to England." He tilted his head up in an arrogant smile. "Until then, we'll be waiting. You got that, wee brother?"

Biting down on his lip, Arthur turned away. "Git." He slowly started to board the ship, wondering if Allistor was still watching him.

"And I'm still telling mother that you were the one smoking in the house!" Yelled the Scotsman. Arthur stopped halfway up the makeshift stairs, glancing back at his brother.

"And I'll be back to kick your arse!" He retorted before continuing on his way. He held a grin on his lips, refusing to look back as the ship released steam, signaling its departure. Greeting Bella with a friendly smile, they both turned back towards the rail to watch the docks grow smaller. By then, there was no sign of Allistor or the vehicle he had arrived in.

"Goodbye…"

_~ End Flashback~_

What had been just few days ago felt like a life time. Shivering at a cold gust of wind, Arthur gazed at the calm ocean, enjoying the smell of brine on the wind. Behind him, laughter and cheers vibrated across the ship.

"So it's officially 1920." He whispered. Reluctantly leaving the rail and the view it provided, Arthur decided to rejoin Bella lest she give him an earful for abandoning her amongst the crowd. One last glance at the ocean was sent, the prospect of seeing land come into sight playing through his mind.

"Let's see what America has to offer."

* * *

Historical Notes:

Vehicles – By the 1920's **Henry Ford**, inventor of the **Model T**, had increased manufacturing efficiency using the **assembly line** to divide up operations into simple tasks that unskilled workers could complete. Automobiles eased the isolation of rural like and enabled people to live further from work. They also created small business opportunities for enterprise, such as garages and gas stations. Henry was the force behind a social revolution.

Radio – Before the invention of the television, the radio was the main source of media for everyday people, providing daily news, shows, music, sports, and advertising which became big business. Basically, it was the center of entertainment at home besides social gatherings.

Railroads – They were vitally crucial for mass transportation of produce, before vehicles started to dominate the country.

WW1 – Or formally known as "The Great War." People in the 1920's never believed that another world war worse than the first would ever befall them again, hence its title, The Great War.

**18****th**** amendment** – An amendment passed in January 16, 1919 it banned the sale, manufacture and transportation of alcohol. It would officially take affect in the year 1920 and prove to be one of the common symbols of the Roaring Twenties.

Theodore Roosevelt – The 26th president of the United States. He died on January 6, 1919.

Farming – After WW1, farmers had a surplus of crops on their hands but were unable to rid themselves of the produce due to falling prices and Europe farmers recovering from the war. If they weren't dealing with surpluses then it was debt that fell upon them that had taken loans to pay for added land. Several bills were proposed in order to help struggling farmers out with their surplus but were never actually passed. Although the 20's were known as a time of prosperity for the country, most if it was seen in the city while farmers suffered from their own agriculture depression and even lost their homes.

Woodrow Wilson – The 28th president of the United States during WW1, he was known as The Mediator, using the slogan, "He kept us out of the War" to get elected. Until the Zimmerman Telegram, he had been stanch in keeping the US isolated from Europe's affairs. However, it wasn't until the US began mobilization for war during 1917 that the government realized how unprepared the country was military wise with the few soldiers it had compared to European armies, and thus began its gradual build up of its army that would come in use later in WW2.

"Night and Day" – A novel written by Virginia Woolf in October 20, 1919. "A User's Guide to Navigating through the United States" does not exist.

…**Tho I love you so, It is time to go…** - Lyrics from _Send me Away with a Smile _sung by Canadian singer Henry Burr.


End file.
